The Night Will Go As Follows
theDarkIsRising
8. WHAT HAVE WE DONE?
Hermione had not worked in nearly two weeks. She could only watch Remus come and go from his job, leaving clean and returning bloody, no matter how much he said he washed up. He'd come back, exhausted, collapsing on the couch, apologizing to her for his fatigue. She'd reassure him that it was no problem and slink off to her bedroom to read, allowing him his alone time in his pseudo-bedroom, the couch.
The Ministry gave her a measly sum for her "paid" time off. Most of that money was already gone. She'd tried to owl her boss, Mr. Pemblebrook, every day, attempting to garner a meeting about how unfair he and the Ministry were treating her. She always signed her correspondence with "Respectably yours," but really that was a lie. She had hardly any respect for them at this point. Then, he replied, asking her to come in, saying his schedule had opened up. Now, she sat across from him and she tried to keep a scowl from constantly crossing her face.
"I'm recommending that you be moved departments. Perkins is retiring from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. You can be there within the week," he said.
"You must be joking – Misuse of Muggle Artifacts?" She couldn't believe. They were going to ship her off to one of the lowest level departments. To chase singing teapots, self-propelled mowers, or biting toilets.
"I thought you'd like to work with someone you are familiar with. Arthur seemed glad to have you."
"Yes, but I'd hoped to be moved to a higher level department. Maybe Magical Law Enforcement at least," Hermione said.
"There aren't any openings at Magical Law."
"Perhaps one could be made."
"Miss Granger – "
"Lupin," she said icily.
"Hermione – "
"Under provision 12.8 underneath the Equal Protection Act, you must relocate me to a department of my liking."
She began rustling about in her bag, pulling out three books and several sheets of notes. Pemblebrook held up a hand to stop her. He waved away the scribblings she was trying to point out to him.
"I know the law. But they'd have to make a place for you and we don't know how long that would take."
"I'm not working in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I deserve a position like the one I'm leaving." Or rather, the one you're making me leave, she thought bitterly.
"I'll ask Williamson. It could be months," he said, leaning back in his chair. They seemed to have her cornered. Mr. Pemblebrook seemed to be waiting on her, as if she would reconsider.
"Then I'll wait," she said.
"Hermione - "
But she was already stuffing her books, parchment, and quills back into her bag. Hurriedly, she stood, before she lost her courage. "Sorry, but I've got to go. I've a lunch date. I'll await your owl." She rushed out the door, feeling defeated. She avoided making eye contact as she left the department and entered an empty lift. Her books felt heavier than when she'd first arrived. Remus faced worse when he went looking for a job, and she had no idea how he could stand it.
In the main lobby, she Flooed to Diagon Alley. She was coming to hate the large fireplaces that glowed green, and was thankful when she stepped out into the busy street. Hermione ducked into the apothecary. Her potions supplies were running low. She wanted to be back at the flat by the time Remus arrived and did not want to return later, having to explain what she purchased. The cost of making Wolfsbane for him kept increasing and she knew that would only make him feel worse. The bell above the door tinkled. Inside was dark; an acrid odor hung in the air. The room was stuffed with bins and barrels; shelves full of glass bottles and jars lined the walls. Hermione carefully measured out three sprigs of "Wolfsbane Gathered at a Full Moon." She grabbed a vial of dragon's blood and a tin of salamander eyes. At the counter, she masked her surprise at the total. The wolfsbane had nearly tripled in price. Carefully, she counted her money, feeling her purse lighten considerably as she paid.
As the young witch behind the counter sacked her purchase, her eyes narrowed at Hermione. "Making a Wolfsbane potion, I see."
"Um, yes," Hermione replied, feeling defensive. The usual shop witch rarely ever spoke to her.
"Be careful, dear." She handed Hermione the bag. "Of the werewolf and that potion. They'll both bite you, if you aren't paying attention."
Hermione only nodded, making her escape back onto the sidewalk. What did that woman know? What did any of them really know about her and Remus?
The Leaky Cauldron was nearly full and Hermione had a hard time finding Ginny. Eventually, she spotted her bright red hair amongst the booths near the back. Hermione was somewhat surprised when she also spotted Luna Lovegood. She sat across from Ginny with her nose stuck in the latest copy of The Quibbler. The cover showed a wolf seated next to a man; both were staring at a full moon. The title said, "Are We Not Men? How Creature Laws Hurt Us All."
"Hermione," said Ginny, grinning over her butterbeer.
"Oh, hello. How are you?" said Luna, looking up from her reading. As Hermione sat, Luna placed the paper on the table. "Father just published an article about what you and Remus have gone through." She pointed at the The Quibbler. "We don't think there's any line between werewolves and other wizards. If they're men most of the time, then why punish them for the wolf?"
"All of our sentiments exactly," said Ginny. "What took you so long?"
Setting her bags on the floor, Hermione ruffled her mess of hair with a sigh. "Been at the Ministry. Pemblebrook is having trouble relocating me."
"They still haven't given you a job? That's bullocks," said Ginny.
"Tell me about it. I need a drink."
"And how's your husband?" asked Luna. She smiled and tilted her head
Ginny nodded and leaned forward. "Yes, how is the old wolf?" Hermione noticed a gleam in her eyes.
"He's fine. We've been in my flat. Oh, don't give me that look. He's been on the couch. Since I've been laid off, he's been working at a Muggle grocers."
Hermione crossed her arms and bit her lip. She hadn't spoken much about Remus or their wedding with anyone else. Sure she'd told them about proposing to him and they had all heard (or at least) read about them marrying rather quickly at the Ministry. But now it was real and she was sitting here, talking about it aloud. It suddenly felt very, very real.
"Poor thing. Having to sleep on the couch," said Ginny.
"Well I offered him the bed," countered Hermione.
Ginny winked at her. "Oh, I bet you did."
"Hermione," said Luna, "you are turning an interesting, if not alarming, shade of red. Is it too hot in here?"
Her face did feel splotchy and her heart's rhythm had quickened. "A bit." She cleared her throat. "Remus has been nothing but a gentleman."
"Fine." Ginny sighed. "I'll leave it. For now." She scooted her basket of chips closer to Hermione, who gladly started eating them, because she was famished and because she had spent all her money on wolfsbane.
"So did you and Remus have a reception?" asked Luna as an awkward silence persisted.
"I hope not because I was never invited to one," said Ginny.
"I guess that I – we – hadn't thought about it? Been too busy."
"Busy?" Ginny scoffed at her. "You haven't been to work in weeks. Which begs the question: what have you been doing?" That mischievous glint returned to Ginny's eyes and she raised her eyebrows.
"Stop it. Nothing like that. Like I said, I've been trying to get my job back."
"Obviously, that's not going well. Haven't been too busy," said Ginny.
"I'll have you know I've been researching, taking my findings to the Ministry. "
"Blimey, Hermione Granger conducting dedicated research and still no luck. They really gave it to you, didn't they?" Ginny appeared genuinely surprised.
"Yes. They've stopped paying me my time off as well." Hermione turned toward Luna and smiled sadly. "A reception isn't really in the cards right now."
"Why not?" said Luna. "Sounds like what you two need. It'll be like a party."
"We couldn't possibly afford that. I swear, we're going to move to Grimmauld soon enough. Having this–well, we'd be there in a few days."
Ginny scoffed at her. "As if we'd let you pay a sickle. C'mon, Hermione. Let us throw a party. A proper wedding reception. Harry and I – and I'm sure everyone else- would love to do so."
"Really?" Hermione paused. "What about everyone else? What about your mother?"
"What about Mrs. Weasley?" asked Luna.
"Pfft her. She'll come around. She's been a bit miffed, Luna. That doesn't mean Hermione should be so worried. We all understand your circumstances. You two deserve to get the full package out of it."
"How're we going to convince Remus this is a good idea?" asked Hermione.
Luna was rolling up The Quibbler and spying through it. The end had a bit of translucent paper stuck to it, like a stationary kaleidoscope. "How're you going to convince Remus then?" Luna asked, continuing to look at the nearest candle with her makeshift device.
"You're his wife now. That's your job," said Ginny, nodding her head in agreement with Luna.
"Ginny…"
"Oh shut it. We can have it same as the Halloween party. Less pressure. He can't say no to that."
"I guess," said Hermione. She doubted having it on Halloween would make it more appealing.
"Have some fun. You both deserve it. It'll be nice. Like your "we're official" moment." Ginny used air quotes.
"Do we have to do anything special? Or are we just tacking onto Halloween?"
Ginny smiled again. "I'm sure we'll think of something."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe a nice cake or banner," suggested Luna.
"Or something that sings and serenades you all night," said Ginny.
"Please nothing that sings," Hermione pleaded.
Ginny shrugged. "Whatever you say."
Luna unrolled her paper and excused herself to the loo. Ginny finished off the chips and leveled her gaze at Hermione. She thought for a moment before asking, "Are you doing all right? Truly?"
"Yes, the best as to be expected." Hermione didn't know what else to say. They were still finding their footing together, becoming accustomed to being around each other.
"You know if you need anything, anything else, let us know." Ginny reached out and squeezed Hermione's hand. "Are you getting along?"
"Splendid. We're fine. Learning how to coexist, be in the same space."
Ginny's mouth twisted in thought again and asked,"Are you happy?"
Hermione found the term 'happy' rather relative; she had not really considered happiness as anything in her foreseeable future for quite a long time. "I guess mostly. Nothing's been easy."
"Ron would want you to be happy."
"This is nothing like Ron."
"I know. I just know how you can be. You can overthink things." Ginny gave a small smile and nudged Hermione's shoulder. "I bet you two aren't half-bad together. You've got someone else to lend your books to and can stop forcing them on me."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Then, she spied her bag, which rested against her leg and contained three magical law books and two others about werewolf history. Remus had poured over them in an attempt to help her research after one particularly bad night when she broke her quill in two and forcefully dropped her head to the table in frustration. A few times he'd called her over to read a passage that wasn't directly related to her research, but rather a bit of information that he found fascinating or something he thought she'd find interesting. Yes, well, the book part might have been correct.
Ginny tried to hurriedly wave Luna back to the table. "C'mon. We've got to start planning. What colors?"
Luna sat and leaned forward excitedly. "Why not all of them?"
"Just not pink," said Hermione faintly.
Harry invited Remus over, saying it had been too long since he'd been out and socialized. When Remus saw the others, those surviving Order members, they'd been wary at first to approach him. He had his own standoffish nature and aggression to blame for that. He'd distanced himself to the extreme those two weeks and long before that; after Tonks' death, he rarely saw anyone those two years. He'd been unsure as he tried to talk to Harry, standing in his and Ginny's flat, clutching firewhiskeys. George was giving Bill and Fleur hell about something or another. Arthur attempted to stay neutral in that conversation but was failing.
"Harry, I don't really know what to say about all this," Remus began.
Harry cut him off. "Nothing to say really." He smiled. "You're all right. And Hermione? She's doing okay?"
"Yes," Remus said. "Except for her worrying about her job, she's quite fine."
After that comment, Harry's smile twitched a bit at the corners. He sort of appraised Remus for a moment and then smiled fully.
"What is it?" asked Remus.
"Oh nothing," Harry said. Remus thought he heard him muttering the word "fine" and chuckling. Harry knocked back the rest of his drink. "Another?" Remus nodded, feeling relieved momentarily. The alcohol coursed through him and he relaxed.
Later though, once home, Remus heard about the reception. That brief feeling of calm from earlier was gone. Remus did not want to agree to the party. Then, when he heard it was going to be on Halloween, he knew they should cancel.
October 31st had not gotten easier for him. The best one, probably the most bittersweet, was when he taught at Hogwarts. Past memories of his former Hogwarts Halloween feasts crept up to haunt him, but this time surrounded by the floating candles and enchanted pumpkins, the memories lost some of their sting. They felt happy again. He could see all the students, faces aglow, could see Harry and his friends, could almost remember what it felt like to sit at a table surrounded by his best friends.
Then Sirius broke into the castle. Harsh reality returned. James and Lily were dead. Peter murdered by Sirius. And now Sirius was looking to kill Harry. Remus ran through the halls, no longer remembering the pranks or the late night excursions, but rather he remembered Godric's Hollow, a smoking ruin, how night pressed in on him although he stood under an expansive July night sky. He hunted his best friend through Hogwarts that Halloween. Those that followed, the next Halloweens would be no better.
When she asked him about the reception, Hermione recognized the hesitation in Remus, the nearly imperceptible way he retracted from her and the conversation, even more so when she mentioned that they wanted the reception to coincide with a Halloween party. He was very good at controlling his features, but she had begun to see when those small changes in his face signaled an internal change. He tried to redirect, attempting to dissuade her politely.
"I wouldn't think that Molly would want such an event at the Burrow," he said. Remus hovered by the window, looking at her from across the living room. His clean clothes were strewn on the couch and he wished he'd picked them up.
"It's Ginny's idea. She says it's all right."
"Yes, well, perhaps another night, perhaps later once we're better settled."
"Ginny and Harry have promised to take care of it, despite me asking them to wait," Hermione said and then paused. She moved a few steps closer to him. "But don't you think this could be good?"
"I'm not saying the party wouldn't be nice. I just think we should wait."
"We all know what Halloween means for you." Hermione started to reach out for his arm but hesitated. "Maybe this one could be a little happier. We can't erase what happened, but maybe this could help."
Remus sighed. He moved past her and slumped into a chair. "They won't be dissuaded?"
"She's already sent out the first round of owls."
"How many people is she inviting? I thought this was going to be quiet."
"Shouldn't be no more than a few dozen people at most. Ginny swore she'd keep it small."
AN:Sorry for the spacing. It came out all weird. And for that ending. I was going to continue, but I've hit a block on this story for some reason. Muse cooooome back. But also I wanted to save the party for its own chapter; that's enough drama on its own. It will be filled with more Remione moments then this chapter. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! :) Y'all are the best.